


Come the Revolution

by louciferish



Series: Ordinary People [7]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Coming Out, Cussing, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Growing Old Together, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Long-Haired Victor Nikiforov, M/M, Retirement, shady government agencies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-28 00:37:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15036833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louciferish/pseuds/louciferish
Summary: A series of seven ficlets in the Ordinary People universe, created for YOI Pride Week 2018.





	1. Day One - Revelations

**Author's Note:**

> This first story, "Revelations" is set when Victor is still a teenager, after the events of "Extraordinary", but prior to "Shiftships".
> 
> Most of the stories in this will take place prior to "Shiftships", but the stories will make the most sense if you've read the previous installments in this series.

Victor bends down close to the worksheet, tapping his pencil against the table, as if his proximity to his homework is an indicator of how intent he is on the work. He thinks maybe it's math, but it might be science - something involving numbers. He can’t focus, too busy listening to Lilia as she confers with the government man in the next room.

They always act like he’s not even there anymore once the usual exam is over. Stupid. Just because his hearing isn’t a enhanced sense doesn’t mean he’s _deaf_.

“The agency is pleased with your progress on his schooling,” the man says. “But there are some other concerns.”

“Oh? Lilia’s tone is sweet, but there’s a warning sting at the tip that makes Victor sit up straighter in his chair. “What concerns would those be?”

Victor can’t see them, so he can only imagine how the government man might be reacting in the short pause that follows. Then, quieter, the agent says, “There are some questions about the hair.”

“Vitya has lovely hair.” Ouch. If the agent has half a brain, he’ll hear that snap in her voice. Victor is wincing, and it’s not even directed at him. 

His hair, though? He pulls his long silver braid around to the front, peering at the end. Have his split ends gotten that bad?

“If you need a recommendation for a discrete barber, the agency has a few on staff.” Another mysterious pause. “It’s the length. I’m sure you understand, in your line of work. Some of the officers are concerned that it makes him look a bit, well, you know…”

The government man trails off, but he’s said enough. The pencil slips from Victor’s fingers, rolls off the table, and clatters against the linoleum. Victor swoops down to grab it and sits up to find Lilia leaning around the corner to check on him. 

He flashes her a quick smile, then sets his pen and eyes back to his work as if it were any other accident. His heart is pounding, and he can only hope none of it shows on his face. He stares down at the worksheet. It’s biology. The diagrams of insects and birds seem to swarm on the page, skittering toward his fingers.

“Listen,” Lilia is saying in the next room. Her voice is quieter, and he has to strain his hearing to follow her words. “If Vitya wants to become a super villain, that is your business. If his powers suddenly vanish tomorrow, that is your business. But if Vitya wants to grow his hair to his ankles, that is his choice. If he wants to wear a tutu to fight crime, then as long as he can still do his job, you will say ‘thank you very much for saving those people’. And if, someday, he falls in love, then the only response I expect from your agency is a congratulatory gift, regardless of who he chooses to be with.”

Silence. Then Lilia adds, “If _your agency_ has a problem with that, you'll have to take us back to court. Do we have a problem?”

If the man has a verbal response to that, it’s not one Victor can hear. A moment later, the front door clicks as the man closes it on his way out.

Lilia probably knows why, when Victor walks up behind her later. He hugs her from behind, and she stiffens in his arms. They're not affectionate this way. He presses his forehead to the space between her sharp shoulder blades, closes his eyes and breathes in the familiar smell of rosewater and shoe leather. She lays a hand over his arms where where they wrap around her waist and says nothing.


	2. Day Two - Healing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another pre-Shiftships snip for Aura. I used the alternate prompt of "Healing" for today. I think for this, Chris is 20 and Victor around 22-23.

He brushes his long silver hair back behind his shoulder and tilts his head for a better look. In the mirror, the junction of his neck and shoulder is a red half-circle, peppered with flecks of pale purple. As he watches, the indents fade, then the red, and finally the purpling turns to yellow and vanishes.

His stomach clenches. It’s silly to feel guilty, he knows that. He’s far too old to have believed that he’d feel somehow _different_ after, but here he is, still longing for some type of physical evidence of what he’s done.

“Victor,” Chris’ voice is muffled by distance and the door. “Is everything okay?”

Victor brushes his hair forward, covering the spot where the bite once was, and opens the bathroom door. Chris is stretched out on the hotel bed, shamelessly bare on top of the covers, but his wide eyes betray him. Another stab of guilt, of course.

Victor floats across the room and crawls onto the bed beside his friend. “I’m fine,” he says. His face feels tight when he smiles. “Sorry to worry you.”

As soon as he settles onto the bed, Chris worms over, tucking their bodies together, skin to skin. The contact radiates warmth through Victor’s muscles, and he relaxes, pulling Chris closer. He presses a fond kiss to the mass of blond curls crowning Chris' head and mouths a thank you into his hair. If Chris notices the message, he doesn't respond, but he wraps his arms around Victor and pulls him further into the combined heat of their bodies.


	3. Day Three - Yes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit more pre-Shiftships with a Victor focus today. Victor is 25, and Yuuri would be about 20/21. This would be shortly after the JF was first founded, being just Aura, Twister, and Night Owl still. 
> 
> After this, the rest of the snippets will be either Yuuri-focused, or Yuuri and Victor together :)

The interviewers always ask about his love life, and it always goes the same way.

“So, are you seeing anyone?” the person will ask, leaning in closer to him as if they’re totally invested in his response.

And Victor will take the easy way out. He’ll lean back in his chair, cross his arms, and give the camera a practiced, pouty look. “No, I’m afraid I’m not.” 

If it’s a good day, if he has a good rapport with the interviewer, sometimes he’ll flirt a bit. Inevitably, they’ll change the subject, and he’ll be back to talking once more about pop culture and who he’d like to play Aura in the film version of his life (himself, of course).

He’s not sure what’s different today. He feels off, like a storm is blowing in and he’s the only one who notices. The interview is an older man with a sour little pucker of a mouth. When Victor’s publicist left, the man had watched her go with a look in his eyes that was far from professional, and it set Victor’s nerves on edge.

When they get to that portion of the interview, the man says, “So, are you seeing anyone?” He doesn’t lean forward. His voice is flat, bored. His eyes are fixed across the room on the buffet table.

And Victor crosses his legs and rests against the plush back of the chair. “No,” a normal response, but he adds: “But I’m hoping to change that soon.”

The man’s eyes slide over to him, his brow furrowing. “Really?”

“Yes,” Victor says. “After all, we’re hearing more reports from around the world of young people displaying powers every year. It’s hard for me to date right now, of course. Being a superhero and being in the public eye so much, it complicates things, but I have hope that someone will come along.”

“So your ideal woman, she’d need to be a superhero too?”

Victor doesn’t even think twice about it, of course he doesn’t. This is already the most honest conversation he’s had with a reporter in years. He just says, “Yes, I guess my ideal man or woman would be a hero too, or at least understand the lifestyle.” Then he turns and winks at the camera, “If you’re out there, please consider joining the Justice Friends as part of your application process.”

The reporter blinks, his sour mouth going slack, and for a second it feels like maybe he’ll follow up with something interesting, something new. 

“Wow,” he says. “So, who would you want to play Aura in a movie about your life?”

In a cheap apartment across town, a young man sits cross-legged on his bed, the walls of his room plastered with a couple dozen copies of the smiling face glowing through the television. When Victor winks at the camera Yuuri can only gape at the screen. He reaches over to grab a pillow, then holds it over his face to muffle the scream.


	4. Day Four - Grace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? POST-SERIES???
> 
> This would be after Human on the Inside but before Flowers for the Sun - Yuuri and Victor are together, but Yuuri hasn't moved into the mansion yet :)

Yuuri runs a hand through his hair again and leans in closer to the mirror, turning his head side to side. Leaning against the bathroom door frame, Victor huffs.

“You look wonderful, as always,” he says. “Stop picking at yourself. Shouldn’t you be more worried about how I look?”

“I’m never worried about how you look,” Yuuri says. At the junction of his neck and jaw on one side, there is a bruise. He knew there would be one somewhere. It’s yellow and brown with age, barely visible against his skin tone, and when he presses there’s no pain left in it. “See? I found one.”

Victor hums and floats over to stand behind Yuuri, illuminating the spot with his glow. He tilts Yuuri’s head for a better look, and Yuuri presses his back into the warmth of Victor’s chest. “Is that from me?” he asks, bending closer to press a kiss on the old bruise. “I’ll heal it for you.”

“That’s not how your power works,” Yuuri says. He pulls away a bit and turns in Victor’s embrace. “Besides, I think it might actually be from last week. Remember when that henchman tried to strangle me?”

Victor’s expression darkens and he grips Yuuri's waist tightly. “Yes.”

Victor had pretty much thrown that particular henchman through a steel door when he’d seen it, so it’s more than a little ridiculous for him to be acting like the man is still a threat to Yuuri now. He leans up on his toes, pulling Victor in for a kiss, when his eye catches on the clock in the living room.

“Shit,” he says, dropping back. “We’re going to be late. Come on.” He grabs Victor’s hand, tugging him out into the apartment, where his laptop is propped open on the kitchen counter.

He opens the program, then turns back to Victor, squeezing his hand. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Victor presses their foreheads together, sending a rush of warmth through Yuuri’s body from the point of contact to the tips of his toes. “I’m going to love them,” he says. “Because I love you.”

Yuuri’s face heats, and he hides his reaction in Victor’s shoulder, still unused to hearing those words. He has to take a moment to breathe deep before the red-hot rush of blood fades from his cheeks. Then he turns back to the laptop, sets his shoulders, and clicks “Call”.

The laptop rings for a moment, then the screen blinks, and the Skype video window opens up to reveal the whole Katsuki family pressed cheek-to-cheek to fit in the camera lens. “Yuuri,” his mama calls out cheerfully. “ _Moshi moshi_!”

“Good morning,” Yuuri says. He reaches back to catch Victor’s hand once more, pulling him forward into view. “I want you guys to meet my, um, my boyfriend, Victor.”

“Hello, Victor,” Papa says, grinning. “You’re much more handsome than your posters.”

Yuuri groans, but Victor only chuckles and leans closer to the laptop. Smiling like that, he truly lights up the room.


	5. Day Five - Belonging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to pre-series for the last time!
> 
> Just some Yuuri and Phichit meeting/becoming friends action~ that wound up longer than the other ficlets whoops.

Yuuri twists the key in the lock with one hand and jiggles the knob with the other. The stupid thing always sticks, and he can only hope that it doesn’t lock him out this time and humiliate him before the night even starts.

“Thanks again for hosting,” Phichit says from behind him. “I guess I watched too much TV before I moved here, because I had no idea college libraries would close at night!”

The latch pops open, and Yuuri lets out a sigh of relief. “Yeah,” he says as he holds the apartment door wide and waits for Phichit to step through. “They extend the hours during final exams, but not midterms.” He flips the light switch in the kitchen. “Do you need water or anything?”

“No, thanks. Hey! You like _The King and the Skater_?”

Yuuri fills a glass of water for himself and then turns to find Phichit bent double in front of one of the DVD cases, scanning the titles. “Most of those belong to my roommates. I don’t think I’ve seen it.”

Phichit gasps, pressing a hand to his heart with an exaggerated expression of horror. “Oh my god. We are fixing that, now.”

Yuuri chews his lip. He invited this guy over to study for their history exam. He _needs_ to study, or he’s going to fail thanks to Dr. Bard’s stupid “only two unexcused absences policy”, which is blatant discrimination against students who stay out all night fighting crime and sometimes don’t wake up in time for their morning classes.

Morning classes should be a crime. Dr. Bard is at least 60. Yuuri could probably take him in a fight.

“We should study in my room,” Yuuri says. “I’m not sure when my roommates will get back.”

“Okay,” Phichit says, flashing brilliant white teeth as he adjusts his book bag on his shoulder. “Lead the way.”

Yuuri’s bedroom is just off the living room, closest to the kitchen. He turns on the floor lamp by the door, then flops onto the bed with his bag and starts digging out his book and laptop. He stops, laptop half out of the bag, as he realizes Phichit is still in the doorway. “Is everything okay?”

Phichit is scanning the room, his eyes wide. “Yeah, just… Wow. You’re a really big fan of Aura, huh?” He points at the poster above Yuuri’s closet door, of sixteen year-old Aura perched on the back of a white horse with a huge, obviously false horn strapped to its head. “I didn’t even know they made that one.”

Yuuri’s face heats, and he mutters, “It’s an import.”

Phichit makes a humming noise, then smiles again. “Cool.” He drops his bag on the floor and turns Yuuri’s desk chair to face the bed. “So, which chapters does this exam cover?”

-

Someone touches Yuuri’s shoulder. His eyes shoot open and he sits up, blinking to focus.

“Sorry,” someone says. “I was trying _not_ to startle you.” 

Yuuri fumbles in the sheets until he feels the familiar cool plastic curve of his glasses, then lifts them into place. Oh, right. Phichit. He must have drifted off when they were studying. He reaches under his lenses, rubbing his eyes. “How long was I out?”

“A while,” Phichit says, shrugging. “You seemed like you needed it so I didn’t want to bother you, but it’s getting late.”

Yuuri falls back onto the bed with a groan. Maybe Yuuko was right all along. Maybe it was a mistake to try to fight crime and attend college at the same time. He’s taking on way too much, but he can’t drop classes and disappoint his parents. He also can’t give up Night Owl, even if balancing the two things means he kind of sucks at both.

“Hey Yuuri,” Phichit whispers, and Yuuri turns his head to see. At some point, Phichit must have switched from the floor lamp to the desk light, and he sits by the desk only half-lit, the rest of him covered in darkness.

“I like you,” he says abruptly. “I mean, as a friend, not like a date or something! Not that there's anything wrong with that! Wait, let me start over.” 

He takes a deep breath, clasping his hands on his knees. “I'd like to be your friend, not just your study partner. I don’t really know many people here yet, and we’re sort of neighbors, right? Thailand and Japan?” He smiles again, but it doesn’t quite reach the edges. There’s not a tooth in sight. “Do you want to hang out sometime?”

Yuuri’s heart sinks. He wants to run across the apartment, grab Yuuko from her bed, and pull her into the room. _See,_ he’ll say. _This is why I never meet anyone else here. This is what happens._

Out loud, he says, “I like you too, Phichit, but I’m not a very good friend to anyone right now. I’m not reliable. I’m always late to things. And, as you saw, I fall asleep a lot when I shouldn’t. You should find someone better to hang out with.”

Yuuri is expecting Phichit to be reluctant but accepting. He's expecting Phichit to agree and leave. Instead, his expression resolves to determination. 

“What? No, Yuuri, you're a great friend! I mean, you've already been a good friend to me in class. I know you obviously have some type of sleep problem or something, but just because you're a few minutes late for History doesn't make you a bad friend.”

“Phichit,” Yuuri hesitates. He doesn’t need more attachments here, really. Attachments are dangerous. 

Phichit stands up from his chair and claps his hands. “Wait, Yuuri! I’ll tell you a secret, okay? Between friends.”

“I don’t know…” Yuuri runs a hand down his face. Who on earth is so stubborn about _making friends_?

Phichit raises one finger, cutting off the rest of Yuuri’s protest. “My secret is related to Aura!”

Shit. His one weakness. Phichit probably doesn’t know anything that Yuuri hasn’t already heard, and yet he can’t resist. “Go on,” he says slowly.

Phichit’s grin returns in full force as he throws his arms out wide, wiggling his fingers. From his fingertips, a shower of multicolored sparks erupts, raining down to fade harmlessly before they touch the rug. “I’m going to try out for the Justice Friends,” Phichit announces in a voice threaded with pride.

Yuuri is helpless to stop his answering smile, though he tries to smother the hysterical giggle that tickles deep in his chest. “Phichit,” he says. “I think that’s a great idea.”


	6. Day Six - Voices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post-series! Yuuri is 100% outed at this point - identity, power status, his relationship, everything!

He’s not sure how the reporter managed to corner him. Isn’t he supposed to be a highly-trained semi-professional? Reflexes like a cat? Maybe this woman should consider a new career.

“Night Owl,” she says, thrusting the huge foam microphone under his nose. He steps back and presses up against the brick wall of the alley in an attempt to get her out of his personal space. “Hard fight today against the infamously evil ‘YOLO’ organization. Any messages for our viewers who might be concerned about the city’s safety?”

“Uhhhh… Don’t be?” Yuuri says. Peering over the woman’s shoulder, he searches for an escape route, but the camera man isn’t meeting his eyes and the rest of the Justice Friends are still out on the street, busy with their own statements and cleanup. 

“What about your relationship with Justice Friends founder and four-time Sexiest Man Alive winner, Aura?” She presses the microphone until it bumps his lips, and he brushes her hand away.

“Five, actually,” he mutters, still scanning the street for help. No one is even looking this way

“What’s that? Did you say ‘fine’? What do you mean by ‘fine’ exactly? Is your relationship on the rocks?”

Yuuri blinks at the camera as the lens zooms in on his face. His fingers scrape along the rough bricks behind him. Oh, god, he’s so bad at this. He should not be talking to reporters alone, period. “No, I said- I said it was _five_. He’s been voted sexiest man alive _five_... times…” He trails off, flushing as he realizes he’s just been caught out for the fanboy he is.

“So,” the reporter takes a step back at last, and Yuuri finally has room to take a breath, though he can’t stop looking over at the curved lens of the camera pressed over her shoulder like the eye of a cyclops, watching. “The Sun and Herald has published a report that your status as an unenhanced human is causing friction in your relationship with Aura and the Justice Friends. Would you like to comment?”

“Um, what?” The who reported _what_ now? ‘Unenhanced human’? They mean because he doesn’t have powers? The team has a problem - _Aura_ has a problem?

“Hey!” A loud shout interrupts them, followed by a _whoosh_ as a dark, compact blur suddenly drops from the roof above.

Lynx lands next to Yuuri in the alley, light on his toes as his namesake. His leopard print hood is down, so the camera is treated to an unobstructed view of his scowl, and the reporter stumbles back another step. “Back off, lady,” Yuri snaps. “You’re wasting Night Owl’s time.”

The sight of a teenager leaping off a roof must have thrown her for a moment, but the woman recovers, pushing her microphone at Yuri instead. “Lynx, care to comment on the rumors of divisions in the Justice Friends over Night Owl’s status?”

“Yeah,” Yuri says. He bats the microphone away from his face, then yells into the camera, “It’s _bullshit_! No one on the team gives a flying fuck what Night Owl’s powers are or who he’s fucking as long as he can fight alongside us, which he _clearly can_.” He points a single clawed finger at the camera lens, glaring straight through at the audience on the other side. “Now show _that_ clip on the evening news!”

Then he grabs Yuuri’s hand, hauling him back to where the rest of the team is waiting. Yuuri swallows the lump of nerves that he’d been fighting since the reporter appeared. “I think that was live,” he says, glancing back at the reporter. She’s standing stock still in the alley, microphone dangling at her side. He almost feels bad.

“Good,” Yuri says. “Then everyone heard me, and they can stop asking stupid questions. Now hurry up - Phichit’s roommate is out of town, so he's having everyone over, and he won’t drive us back without you.”

Yuuri smiles at the back of Lynx’s blond head, then looks over him and sees half the team piled into Phichit’s car. Victor waves at him from the back seat, his unguarded smile full of love as he looks at Yuuri. “Okay,” he says. “Thanks for waiting for me.”


	7. Day 7 - Pride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very... very post-series :D I hope you enjoy, and thank you for putting up with my continued rambling about my soft super-boys.

The office is silent, but as soon as the bookcase swings open Victor can hear the soft grunts, gasps, and thuds echoing up the staircase. The trainees are hard at work still.

He floats down the steps to the training room and stops at the bottom to watch. Axel is walking on her hands across the balance beam, looking much steadier than the last time he saw that trick. Loop is on a treadmill in the corner with her back to the stairs, her ponytail bouncing as she runs. Only Lutz notices Victor when he walks in, and she only has time to flash him the briefest smile of acknowledgement before she’s down, dropping into a back bend to duck Yuuri’s attack as they spar.

Seventeen years together and Victor’s breath still catches in his chest when he sees Yuuri in action like this. His forehead is sheened with sweat from the fight, and his silver-streaked black hair is starting to curl at the temples from the moisture. Victor can see his face, gone red with exertion as he spins and dodges around Lutz. 

The familiar grip of love wells in Victor’s chest, threatening to overwhelm him as he watches his husband, so devoted to doing good in the world even as he accepted his own retirement from the streets when forty came knocking. At times like this, it’s hard to remember why Yuuri even chose to retire. His movement flows like a dance without a single hint of hesitation or the stiffness of old injury, and Victor feels blessed - blessed that he gets to see this man every night, flush and active as a teenager, but also every morning, when his joints pop as he stretches and groans at the pull of the scars that stripe his skin.

Victor is so distracted watching Yuuri work that it takes longer than it should have before he notices the air starting to crackle and snap around the combatants. The hair on his arms is already standing on end when he realizes what’s happening. Before he can fly over, or even call out, Yuuri steps back and raises his hands. “Wait, Lutz. Do you need to take a minute?”

The teenager stops and bends over, hands on her knees as she pants in exhaustion, and the electricity around them gradually fades away.

“I think you broke her,” Victor calls out as he drifts toward them to wrap an arm around his husband’s waist. “I thought teenagers were supposed to be like elastic? They snap right back.”

“No, that's JJ,” Yuuri says. He winds his arm around Victor in return, stroking down his back. “Where have you been?”

Victor nuzzles Yuuri’s cheek, and his spine tingles at the catch of stubble against his skin “Nowhere this exciting.” He lifts a hand and counts off on his fingers, “Bank robbery, meeting with the mayor, lost cat, mugging on the way to the lost cat, and then I stopped by the store for milk.”

“Oooh, we _were_ out of milk. Thank you.” Yuuri turns to kiss his cheek, and Victor tilts his head, catching his lips instead.

Lutz groans and wipes the sweat from her forehead with the hem of her dark blue tank top. “Will you guys ever stop being gross? Please, I’m already humiliated.”

“You’ll get a handle on it soon, I promise,” Yuuri says, stepping forward to pat her on the shoulder. Being a teenager is rough enough without the superpowers. “Why don’t you go practice on the heavy bag for a while? Try not to electrify the chain this time - other people have to use that.”

The girl nods and jogs off across the training room, and Yuuri turns back to Victor with a sly smile. “Now, did you actually remember to put the milk away this time?”

“Ah,” Victor says. “Well, I was distracted.”

Yuuri huffs and shakes his head, then reaches for Victor’s hand. He twines their fingers together and leads him up the stairs. “You’ve forgotten, haven’t you?”

“The milk?” In Victor’s defense, he’s never operating at capacity while following Yuuri up the stairs. The view is entirely too good for him to pay attention to that and keep up a conversation at the same time.

“The photo shoot,” Yuuri corrects as he pushes open the bookcase and drags Victor back into the office. “Do the words, ‘lifetime achievement award’ sound familiar to you?”

“Noooo,” Victor says softly. He seizes Yuuri by the waist and pulls him back, tucking his chin over his husband’s shoulder. “I’m not old enough to be getting a lifetime achievement award. Don’t remind me, Yuuri.”

“Besides,” he interlaces his fingers with Yuuri’s and lifts their hands up, the glow of his skin reflecting off the matching gold rings they wear. “I already got the prize of a lifetime.”

Yuuri groans at the cheesy comment, but turns in Victor’s grasp. The kiss is as passionate as their first tentative venture on the rusty fire escape, but tinged with the comfort and trust of all the years between. When they part, Victor is left gasping for breath like one of Yuuri’s trainees. 

“How long before the photographer arrives?” he asks.

Yuuri stands on his toes to whisper in Victor’s ear, the echoes of his breath leaving shivers in their wake. “Not long enough for what I’m going to do to you, _Aura_.” 

Age and dignity be damned. Victor scoops Yuuri up like a sack of flour and flies them up the stairs. When the photographer rings the doorbell much later, the carton of milk is still sitting forgotten on the kitchen counter.


End file.
